NEW HUNGER

I’d never felt hungry like this before, as sexually charged as I did in my brother’s body. I’d awaken in a different city, in my brother Adam’s apartment to find myself surrounded by his things. At first I was confused, but when I found his reflection staring back at me in the bathroom mirror, I knew something had happened . . . I’d become my older brother, but every trace of myself was gone. it’s like I’d never existed at all. 

I felt Adam’s memories hit me as all thoughts and fears left when I realized I was late for work. Dammit, I hated being late. I’d heard Adam talk about what a hard ass his boss was and I wasn’t looking forward to explaining WHAT exactly was happening. Not that anybody would believe me. 

I grabbed one of Adam’s tight grey tees and a black cap and ran out the door. I moved through the NY city streets as if I’d been living there forever. My new body was on autopilot and I loved the way it felt. Adam was so big and tight. He also got A LOT more looks than I ever had in my small twink body. I jogged into a familiar office building and went directly to the 55th floor. 

Everybody greeted me, and I oddly knew their names. I even had memories of . . . holy shit, I’d fucked A LOT of people in this office . . . or at least Adam had. 

I stepped up to my boss’s door and knocked. 

“Come in,” he said. I recognized his deep voice and felt something in my pants stir. My new cock . . . Adam’s cock. It was thicker than the one I was used to, pressed against my pants as i stepped in to find Mr. Arnold standing. Damn, he was hot. 

Wait, what was I thinking?

“Um, sorry I’m late. I’ve had an interesting morning,” I said, closing the door behind me. 

“We’ve talked about this Adam.” He sighed, standing and stepping closer. “When you break the rules, you have to pay the price.”

“Is that right?” I felt blood surge through my body. I licked my lips, something inside taking over as I stepped closer. 

“Is that right, what?” He asked. 

“Sir,” I responded . . .  on autopilot. 

Mr. Arnold licked his lips and rubbed his crotch. I glanced down at it and, for the first time in my life, was completely hungry for cock. I wanted it. I could almost taste it, my heart racing and I stepped in, grabbing Mr. Arnold’s tie and pulling him in for a deep kiss. I felt his beard against my face and my cock got even harder. 

Before I knew it, I was on my knees taking his cock like a pro.

It felt so good. So natural. I never realized my brother was into guys too, but everything about this felt right, Mr. Arnold’s long cock teasing the back of my throat as I reached for my own cock and started to jerk off. 

Like I said, I’d never been hungrier. 

PERMANENT REFLECTIONS

Ethan was a thin, unassuming young man with a penchant for predictability and preppy style. He worked a modest desk job, enjoyed his quiet evenings with a book or a movie, and had never been one to take risks. Little did he know that his life was about to take an unexpected and bewildering turn.

One evening, after a particularly monotonous day at work, Ethan decided to take a detour on his way home. He wandered into an old curiosity shop tucked away in a narrow alley. The shop was filled with all sorts of oddities and antiques, but what caught Ethan's eye was a dusty, ornate mirror with intricate carvings.

"Careful with that," the shopkeeper warned, his voice gravelly. "They say it has magical properties."

Ethan chuckled, amused by the idea of magic in the modern world. He brushed off the warning and looked into the mirror. As his reflection stared back at him, he felt a strange sensation wash over him. The world around him blurred, and before he knew it, he was no longer in his own body.

Ethan found himself staring at a much larger, much hairier reflection. He was in the body of an older, muscular man—his frame broad and powerful, with thick muscles and a thick beard and mustache. His chest was covered in a thick mat of hair, and he wore a white cowboy hat that added to his imposing presence. Hank, as he would soon learn, was a bear of a man with a rugged, masculine appearance. Hank's muscular arms and torso strained against his green T-shirt, and his jeans fit snugly over his strong legs. Panic set in as Ethan realized he had swapped bodies with someone else.

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, a burly man named Hank found himself in a state of confusion as well. Hank was known for his larger-than-life presence and his insatiable libido. He was straight and lived life on his own terms, enjoying the pleasures of the world with unbridled enthusiasm. Finding himself suddenly thin and awkward in Ethan's body was a shock, to say the least. Hank now saw a reflection of a young, preppy kid with a thin frame. He was now dressed in a pastel button-down shirt, a brightly colored tie, and salmon-colored shorts, his hair perfectly coiffed as he suddenly found himself oddly aroused. The transformation was surreal.

Both men struggled to adapt to their new realities. Ethan, in Hank's body, was overwhelmed by the sheer physicality and constant sexual urges that came with it. His days became a whirlwind of new sensations and challenges, from navigating Hank's boisterous social life to dealing with the attention his new physique attracted. He found himself constantly battling the primal urges that now seemed to dominate his thoughts, complicated further by Hank's attraction to women, but he learned to give into his new urges and found himself enjoying being the man's man most men wanted to be. He loved the feel of pleasuring a woman, and couldn't resist the urge of planting his seed. His mind couldn't concentrate on things other than working out and breeding. Than again, every woman loved having "Hank" in her bed and he couldn't stop staring at his muscular, hairy frame and new size in the mirror.

Hank, on the other hand, was having a hard time adjusting to Ethan's more subdued lifestyle and his gay orientation. The quiet evenings and lack of physical exertion left him restless and frustrated. He missed the freedom of his own body, the strength, and the raw vitality that came with it. Navigating Ethan's relationships and social circles, particularly his interactions with other gay men, was both eye-opening and challenging for Hank. But as time went on, he began to appreciate the simplicity and peace that Ethan's life offered and he loved it when his boss invited him into his office for private meetings, and Hank really loved pleasing his new boss.

After several weeks of navigating their swapped lives, Ethan and Hank finally crossed paths again. It was in the same curiosity shop where the strange adventure had begun. The shopkeeper, who seemed to know more than he let on, greeted them with a knowing smile.

"Ready to go back to your own lives?" he asked.

Both men nodded eagerly. The shopkeeper instructed them to stand in front of the mirror together. As they did, a familiar sensation washed over them, and the world blurred once more. When the fog lifted, they were still in each other's bodies.

Panic set in again as they realized nothing had changed. The shopkeeper shook his head sadly.

"Sometimes, the magic doesn't work the way we want it to. I'm afraid you're stuck."

Ethan and Hank were devastated, but there was nothing they could do. They were trapped in each other's bodies permanently. Over time, they had no choice but to adapt. Ethan, now permanently in Hank's body, learned to embrace the physicality and confidence that came with it. He gave in completely to his insatiable appetite for women and kept spreading his seed on a nightly basis, growing even more mesmerized by the feeling of his masculine, powerful body and the respect that came with it.

Hank, now permanently in Ethan's body, found solace in the quieter moments and the deeper connections he formed in Ethan's life. He learned to appreciate the different perspectives and experiences that came with being gay and being the best assistant his boss could imagine. He loved getting lost in the older man's arms and loved it even more when he was on his knees looking up at him with young, hungry desires.

 

AMERICAN CHARLIE

I have a British friend, Charles, who allows me to use him as a skin suit every now and then. He loves the way it feels, and I love wearing him. I’m more of a bear type guy, but he’s not, so he’s always skintight when I pull him on, but I never let my body really FILL his up. I’ve never allowed my muscle and bear fat to affect the way I look when I’m Charles, but I always wonder what it would be like . . . if the two of us were to actually merge. 

In fact, I'm in the mood to be Charles right now. I go and find him. It doesn’t matter where he is. I can be at his side in a matter of seconds. 

He’s at home, getting ready for work, wearing one of his lovely suits. He sees me in the mirror and I see a faint smile ease over his face. He knows what’s coming, and he loves it just as much as I do. I give him a wink before tapping him on the back. He instantly empties into a suit, falling to the floor. 

I slide him on, my legs pushing into his. My cock sliding into his. Everything's so tight, my larger body and muscles straining to fill him up. My bear stomach stretches his out, and I let it, my muscular bear arms filling his up. Finally, I slide his face over mine, and look into the mirror to see him staring back at me, but he’s a bit bigger than he was before. 

My muscular bear bod forces his to be the same. The thickness looks good on him . . . or me. I lick my lips, staring at this new version of Charles. This bear version with thick muscle and soft, pink, sensitive nipples. I round my fingers over them, the sensation pulsing through me like lightning.

Yeah, it’s still him, but a different, merged version. Then I get an idea.

“Shall we play a bit more?” I ask, his accent holding strong as I smile into the mirror. The rush of Charles’ excitement pulses through me. He’s a skin suit, but he’s still here. I can feel him, and he loves every moment of this.  

“Okay,” I smile, his accent suddenly fading. “I feel like Charlie here is more American than you.” I smile, running my fingers over my lip, a thick mustache appearing as my new accent teases a more southern flair. “Yeah, Charlie here’s a good Texas man. Works on a ranch, sweating in the hot sun all day.” I reach down with Charlie’s new, meaty hands and rub my thicker cock. It’s twice the size with me filling it up. I close my eyes for a moment, reality shifting around me before I open them again to find myself looking in an older, rustic mirror. It’s hanging on a wood paneled barn wall. 

I can’t help but smile, adjusting the western hat perched on my head, my muscular bear frame struggling against the tight denim shirt. I still see pieces of Charles staring back at me. Same eyes. Same furrowed brow, but this American version is the best of both of us. I smile at my reflection, knowing that Charles is still there with me, deep inside. 

“So, what do you think, bud? Charlie’s got a lot of work to do.” I smile, tossing him another wink, and I feel Charles’ excitement wash through me. “Yeah, we might have to stay here for a while, see what kind of trouble we can get into.” 

I adjust my hard cock in my tight Levi’s and brush my hands over my mustache before straightening my hat. “Let’s get ‘er done.”

THE ATTORNEY

Another swap out of nowhere, but this is much more than the typical "show up in a strange body and try to figure out who I am" situation. Normally, I'd be able to find a restroom and check out my wallet and get a good look in the mirror, but I'm . . . I'm on a news set, being interviewed . . . LIVE.

I'm an attorney and, I can see myself in the video feed. I read my name . . . Charles Burnham.

Hello, Charles. Damn, I'm quite the bow tie daddy. I'm starting to get hard underneath the news desk. I'm packing quite a cock if the tension on my expensive trousers are any indication.

Trying to pay attention, I reach under the desk and rub my new cock. Oh god, this body is so fucking horny. I have to take care of this, but the whole world is watching . . . at least . . . yeah, I'm on CNN. So goddamn horny and looking at myself in the monitor isn't helping. Look at my perfectly parted salt and pepper hair and beard and . . . that suit . . . the way it feels against my body. I swallow hard, answering another question, trying to focus, but I have to take care of this.

I unzip and fortunately I'm wearing boxers. My new cock is easy to access as my fingers graze the sensitive, thick tip. Damn, this guys . . . I mean, I'm really packing. I smile faintly, trying to hide the fact that I'm starting to jerk myself off on national . . . no, world wide TV. I watch myself in the monitor. I make sure I don't crack. I look like a typical, boring white attorney. I gently tug. I make sure not to move my upper body as my new dick gets even harder, more engorged. How is that even possible?

I slide my new hand over it carefully, fake smiling as I answer another question about my client's impending case. My mind just gives me the answers as if on autopilot. I can't take my eyes off myself in the monitor. Fuck, this guy's hot and . . . those blue eyes . . . that tie . . . those daddy greys.

I tug a few more times. I feel a huge load working its way up until . . . it bursts out of my cock. My hand's wet with daddy cum as I nod again, answer another question as it suddenly hits.

Just look at me. FUCK, I might be a goddamn republican.

NORMAL GUY

Yesterday, I was Maxwell Foster, but most of the people in the office just referred to me as SIR. I was wealthy, handsome, respected and the envy of all my peers. But, I was overworked and tired of being the boss 24/7. It was exhausting to be the one who constantly answered everybody’s questions and told people what to do. The power and money was amazing, but I needed a vacation or a change or something. So, in a moment of sheer annoyance, I wished I could just be a normal guy, somebody with little responsibility who just flew under the radar. 

I didn’t expect anybody to be listening. 

Now, for the last week, I’ve been living the life of Samuel Smith, and he’s just as vanilla as his name. I woke up in his small apartment with inexpensive furniture and off the rack suits. I was thin, balding and had the presence of a wet towel. I was now a junior accountant in the firm and no matter how hard I tried, I was forced to exist with Samuel’s introverted, meek and mostly frightened personality. I went from being the confident man in charge to the worried man who simply wanted to please, and I mean that in every sense. 

Samuel was gay, but in the closet, and I wasn’t able to say no to my boss, Mr. Foster when he called me into his office for meetings and locked the door. I wasn’t able to resist the smell of his expensive cologne, his perfect features and the way he kissed me. He called me Sammy and demanded I call him SIR. It felt familiar and strange, but I never questioned him. I was just a simple accountant who was lucky a man like Maxwell Foster even knew I existed. 

THE POPULAR INTERN

My name is Steve Matheson. I’ve spent the last twenty years working my way up the corporate ladder, pissing a lot of people off along the way. Now, I’m finally in charge. I’m the boss and demand respect. I also work hard on my body. I’m the largest man in the office, a thick wall of muscle, and I take advantage of my intimidating frame. 

I am a man’s man and deserve everything I have, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Being the boss can be lonely and almost nobody in the office likes me. Well, nobody likes me. 

In reality, I could give three fucks what all those pussies think of me. They can suck my my big, rich cock for all I care, but there’s a part of me that wishes . . . I don’t know, that wishes I was more popular . . . no, the most popular man in the office. Don’t I fucking deserve that?

I remember sitting in my leather office chair, closing my eyes and rubbing my hard cock. It was almost time for lunch and a litte me time. I leaned back in my chair, thinking about the hot new intern that just started. She was ripe, and I’d talk her into some alone time in my office before the week was over. That’s one of the perks of being the boss and how could she really say no?

I was sitting there, eyes closed, thinking about it, my hand wrapped around my thick cock as I started to feel dizzy, tired. Before I knew it, I was asleep, my mind wandering as I fetl my entire body beginning to tingle. It was a strange sensation as I drifted into a dream. It was a strange. I was walking through the office, but people looked at me differently. They smiled and said hello, but there weren’t any hot new interns or women at any of the desks. They were all men and, as strange as it sounds, I was just as attracted to them. But, it was just a dream. I wasn’t one of those faggots. 

The next thing I knew, somebody was shaking me awake. 

LEATHERMANS FIRM

I'd started working at the firm about a month ago. I was kind of shocked when I got the job because I didn't, well, I really didn't fit in with the other men that worked there. They were all very fit, wore tight shirts and fine leather braces, etc. It was definitely a CLUB of sorts, but even though I'd been welcomed with incredible grace, I still felt a bit out of place.

It was time for my thirty day review, and I walked into my boss, Mr. Parker's, office. He was just as buff as the other men, his tight shirt strained by his physique. You could see every muscle, the tight leather braces giving his whole look a naughty flair. Some days it was hard working in an environment with so many good looking men...well, so many insanely good looking men.

"Jackson," Mr. Parker said. "It's so good to see you." Mr. Parker was always very kind, the type of man you were drawn to and the kind of man all men strived to be. "Please, have a seat." He motioned to a leather chair across from his desk and turned to face me, a calm look making him look even sexier than usual with his thick mustache.

"Thank you," I managed, feeling very small in his presence. I wasn't buff like the other men at the firm. I was shorter and thin, but I loved the work and wanted to make a difference.

PERFECT SON IN LAW

I couldn’t believe it was finally here; my wedding day. I’d met Jennifer in college and we dated for years before I popped the question last summer. Her dad was anything but happy about it, completely pissed because I didn’t ask for her hand like it was the 1950s. He was very conservative and I was not. We couldn’t be more different. I was a musician and he was the head of a law practice he’d started when Jen was little. He wore suits and did attorney stuff all day, whatever that was. He’d love it if I were more like him, but I was artistic and free-spirited. He was…well, he was NOT. 

The day of the wedding, everything was going smoothly. My bros had come in and threw me an insane bachelor party so I was kind of hung over. The last thing I wanted was to see Jen’s dad walking into the room. 

“Hey gentleman,” he said to my groomsmen. “Mind if we have the room for a moment? I want to have a chat with my soon to be son in law, here.”

My friends nodded, looking back at me as they left the room and Mr.Peterson, Jen’s dad, closed the door behind them. He looked exactly what you’d imagine a Mr. Peterson to look like. Very intense, bald, thick with a bushy mustache. He was much larger than me and always made me nervous, but he wanted to talk. Maybe this was the olive branch I’d been waiting for. We were going to have to make this work one way or another…even if he didn’t like me and was always a complete asshole. 

MYSTERY DADDY

It happened about a week ago. I woke up in a strange bed ina room I didn’t recognize. I felt heavier, almost as if I’d gained a thick layer of fat and muscle overnight. It seemed ridiculous, but once I started to explore my body, I realized that something was very wrong. I had a small layer of fuzz and my hands were larger and stranger than before. I moved them over my belly and up to my nipples. They were incredibly sensitive, and I felt my entire body tense up as I twirled them beneath thick fingertips. I moaned, my voice sounding much deeper and masculine than I remembered, but that’s the strange thing … I didn’t remember. I didn’t know who I was or who I had been, but knew this body didn’t belong to me. THIS was not me, but I somehow knew what it liked as I continued to rub my small pink nipples, my dick growing stiffer by the second. I couldn’t see it, but I felt it, blood flowing into it as it became thicker and harder … my hand drifted down to my crotch and I found a thick, engorged dick that I couldn’t resist. Why was I so hungry to touch this body? Why was I so tuned into to something I didn’t even know?

Unable to resist any longer, I sat up in bed and saw my long, meaty legs. So thick and strong. It wasn’t a swimmer’s body and didn’t look or feel young, but damn it turned me on.Curious, I reached up and felt my face for the first time. I had a mustache and that alone made my new dick twitch again. I’d never had a mustache before … or at least I didn’t think I had.

Clearing my throat, I found a doorway to a bathroom off the bedroom and stepped inside, searching for the light switch on the paneled walls. I flicked it on, light flooding the small bathroom as I glanced up and saw my reflection for the first time.